


Any Port in a Storm

by Cythieus



Category: Dr. Mario (Video Games), Super Mario Bros. (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Best Friends, Consensual Sex, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hospital Sex, Kissing, Making Love, Making Out, New Donk City, Pregnant Sex, Romance, Rough Sex, Sex, Smut, Unplanned Pregnancy, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 22:43:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19386034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cythieus/pseuds/Cythieus
Summary: Dr. Peach Toadstool has a career she loves and the kind of annoying best friend that everyone needs to keep their head right, but she has a secret relationship with the Dr. Mario. They said they were going to take things slow and keep what they had to themselves.But things have a way of kicking themselves into high gear. Short Story/Hospital AU





	Any Port in a Storm

Peach’s thin fingers leafed through the pages pinned to the clipboard, her eyes scanning the information in each blank and bubble. The lanyard, that she had gotten to fight her bad habit of losing pens, had actually ended up nudging her toward a new propensity to chew on them. She fought the instinct for now and at least she was always sure where the pens were. 

She flipped to the front page, her vision tracing a path over the patient name and general information. Slipping the clipboard neatly into the slot at the footboard of the bed, she let the pen drop from her mouth to hang from her neck and dipped her hands into the pockets of her lab coat. The coat was such a shade of pink that it seemed it might have once been white and was just washed with something red by accident. She never replied to inquiries about whether its color was intended or not. 

“Your charts are trending really well, Mr. Meeks,” Peach said. “The swelling has dropped off tremendously and you’re more alert than you were just a few hours ago.” She was sure to flash a smile, but she didn’t let it linger on her face for long. This visit wasn’t all good news. 

Meeks replied with words too garbled to mean anything to anyone other than him. Tears welled up in his eyes as he spoke, letting Peach know the desperation behind whatever it was he was trying to get across. It was to be expected that speech would suffer given the severity of the stroke. 

“I know that you’ve got a lot of questions,” she said. “I will be here to answer them as soon as things are a little better,” Peach said stepping around to the side of his bed. Her hand touched his forehead and she smoothed back the dark brown hair plastered to his skin. 

“I’ll come around and check on you in a bit,” Peach said. It was best not to give exact times, the expectation might of her showing up might upset him and his mind was still foggy. There was no telling if he would be napping when she came back or if he would remember this conversation all that clearly. These first few days were bound to be a haze, but there could be some crucial developments too. 

She waved curtly at him before turning to leave the room through the wide, mauve colored door. There was a sink in the center of this wing of the hospital, just across from the nurses station. She washed her hands in it, rolling up the sleeves of her coat to scrub halfway up to her elbows. A small group doctors and nurses passed, walking in a tight group and talking in hushed tones. 

The whole world was hushed tones. It had been a sixteen hour shift so far and though there were times where she could take a short rest, most of her time had been spent on her feet. It would be several weeks before there were any relief either. 

Absently, she dipped into the on-call room to grab a cup of water and just rest in one of the huge plush chairs. Peach didn’t know exactly when her eyes shut or for how long she was out. If someone had needed her they knew where to check on days like this. That was part of the problem. 

“Peaches!”

Daisy’s excited scream was enough to rouse Peach, but not enough for her to open her eyes. Maybe if she pretended to be sleep Daisy would move on or was that bears…

“Wow, you smarmy bitch, I know you hear me,” Daisy said. 

Peach could hear Daisy’s footsteps as she crossed the on-call room. The light from the hallway cut through her eye lids, causing a dull pain in the front of her forehead. 

“The whole floor can hear you,” Peach said finally, shutting her eyes tighter against the light. 

“Heard you were in here.” Daisy was standing right over her now, half-silhouetted by the light pouring in through the door. She wore a loud orange, yellow and white sundress with a frilly skirt and high heels. She always stood out against the beige and white tones that lined the halls of this hospital. 

“Are you working today?” Peach asked. 

Daisy cracked a little smile, her bronze skin had a luster to it even in the in the darkness of this room. “I’m always working, but no, I’m here seeing Luigi. I’ll be on the road for a bit with this new launch coming up, I might not get to see him for a while.” 

“Do you need the room?” Asked Peach.

With a flick of her hand Daisy dismissed the question. “Nah,” she said before she folded her arms over her chest. “If we’re going to screw in this dreary place I’d rather do it in one of the empty rooms in the children’s wing.” 

“You’re the worst,” Peach said. 

“I know, but the little pictures of parading Goombas and Mushroom people they plaster on the sides of the beds make me smile,” Daisy said. 

They had both gone through medical school together. Long before even that they were best friends, in fact Daisy they had known each other since before either of them could talk, but part of the way through their residency Daisy had chosen a different route in the industry: she was a sales rep for Gadd Pharmaceutical. It was her job to travel the region and teach hospital staff about new drugs or update them on treatment options afforded to them by drugs available to them. 

Peach yawned, her arms and legs jerking out out so that she could stretch. There was no point trying to get Daisy to filter herself. “Have you found him yet?” 

Daisy shook her head. “No, but I saw your little boy toy,” Daisy said giving the front of Peach’s chair a series of rapid kicks. 

“Stop it,” Peach said, her fingers pressed against the sides of the bridge of her nose out of sheer frustration. 

“He always asks about you and, like, he works in this place with you. How’s that going?” Daisy asked. 

“I don’t fraternize like that here--” Peach said. 

“—you’re definitely not _fraternizing_ anyone and haven’t for a while. When was the last time you went out?” Daisy asked. 

Peach sighed. “Half your job is taking people out and buttering them up,” she said. “It’s different in here.” 

“You’re not only in here though, Peach. I might as well buy you a big crate of D-batteries and four weird cats so you can just settle down to be one of those old women who’s only source of sexual tension is the weird bag boy at the grocery store.” 

“Hey, my life has sexual tension!” Okay, maybe that was too loud. 

“There’s more sexual tension in nursery rhymes without people in them,” Daisy said. She crossed the room and poured herself a cup of coffee. Then she produced a small flask from a pocket hidden in the ruffles of her dress and poured a splash in with her coffee. “Talk to Mario. We can go on double dates.” 

Daisy took a sip of coffee and then dumped the rest of the flask in. “We’ll be dating twins. Twins that are _doctors_. We could swap stories about them over mimosas and you can tell me if I’m right about Mario’s crank—“

“—Ew, Daisy no. I don’t—I don’t have time for those things right now.” 

“Meow.” Daisy said after another, longer drink. 

“What are you doing?”

“Meow,” Daisy said again. “I’m going to meow like a cat when you make excuses for not having a life. I’ll come to your apartment and just slap your stuff off shelves and pee in your shoes too until you get your personal life together.” 

“You know I have other friends, right?” 

“Sure you do.”

“Luigi and I get along well. And Doctor Bowser is a little, extra, but he seems nice and he always rushes any pathology results when I really need them.” 

Daisy laughed. “I wonder why,” she said smiling as she tilted the cup up to her mouth again. “I notice that you’re not mentioning Mario in all of this.”

“Mario and I are…just fine. Why are you so concerned with all of this?” Asked Peach. 

“You’re so happy,” Daisy said. “I mean I want you to be happy.” She took another big gulp of coffee. “But you’re happier every time I see you.” 

“Did you ever think that maybe I just loved work?” Asked Peach.

Daisy shrugged, her blue eyes fixated down on her cup. “It smells bad here, like all of the time and people…people die,” she whispered the last part. 

A little chuckle escaped Peach, she was sure it was not out of crassness, but other than that couldn’t tell where it came from. “The work is very hard. Occasionally I lose a patient or I have a really bad day, but my day is never as bad as the ones these people and their families are going through. And more often than not I get to make sure their day gets better…and that they have more days at all.”

Daisy eyed her for a long enough time that she was able to take several more sips of coffee. “You’re hiding something. I’m just here to let you know Peaches, I’ve known you too long for you to outsmart me for long. Im going to go find my man, you want the rest of this?” Daisy held her coffee cup down to show Peach the bit of dark coffee sloshing around at the bottom.

Peach shook her head. “Can’t drink—I need to be alert; I could use some food. It’s been hours since I’ve eaten anything.” 

“I’d love to grab lunch with you, but we’d have to—“

Peach cut her off. “—no, you’re here to see Luigi. I’ll be fine,” Peach said. 

“Are you sure?” Asked Daisy as she tossed her cup and the remainder of the coffee and liquor mix into the trash. 

With a little smirk plastered on her face, Peach nodded. 

Daisy closed the gap between them and reached out to touch Peach’s forehead, her thumb brushing back the flyaway bangs that were too short to make it into Peach’s haphazard bun. Daisy swept a blonde tendril of hair back behind Peach’s ear. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will,” said Peach.

Daisy bent down and kissed her on the cheek. “See you later, love.”

* * *

* * *

She was careful to close the patient’s door before starting up, but the entire time Peach kept eye contact with Lemmy. He was one of the newer nurses in this part of the hospital, but he had worked in other places supposedly. She really didn’t know him that well, he hadn’t been around long enough. Peach knew she had to nip this in the bud. 

“Why am I seeing that you held my patient down and started a Phenytoin drip?” Peach asked. 

Lemmy was an odd looking man, even for a Koopa. He had rainbow colored, dyed hair and his eyes were a little crossed. His arms seemed too long for his body, like he had to bend them awkwardly when he scratched the back of his head. “It’s one of the most common anti-seizure medications.” 

“Maybe sixty years ago. It’s never a first choice now and an IV is inadvisable due to the risk of cardiac or local toxicity.” Peach kept her tone even. She didn’t make it a habit of laying into nurses and other hospital staff, but this whole situation rubbed her the wrong way. 

“I made the call I thought was best and look, the patient is getting better.”

“They’re getting better because you got lucky. We don’t hope for our luck to hold out in a place like this because when it doesn’t people die. We do our due diligence to make sure that we don’t end up staring down the barrel of a malpractice law suit or, worse, having to tell a family there’s nothing more we could do,” Peach said. 

“No disrespect, but you’re being hysterical, Dr. Toadstool,” he said. 

Peach brushed the hair out of her face and glanced around to see if the inevitable attention of nearby staff had found them. She pushed her lanyard and stethoscope aside to reveal her identification badge. “Can you read that word right there under my name?” 

Lemmy glared down at the badge and then back up at her. He knew what it said before he read it, but had looked anyway. “Neurologist.” 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought it said too, but I wanted to get your opinion since you’re such an expert.” Peach fumbled with the door charts. “Look, you’ve obviously been at this long enough that you feel you know better than everyone even though I spent more time doing my residency than you’ve been doing this job. Do what you want. And when someone has adverse effects I’ll treat them. When they code I’ll do my best to bring them back, but remember someone won’t always be there to pick up your slack.” 

Peach tossed the clipboard back into the slot in the door and trotted off down the hallway, unsure of where she was going. She knew that others would be staring at her now, she had raised her voice just a tiny bit, but she had been here too long and there was no excuse for how that nurse was talking to her, especially not after that.

She thought it might be best to end her day here. Maybe this was the end of her rope; she had been burning the candle at both ends for some time now and the more exhausted she was the more dangerous it became for anyone placed in her care. 

One of the break room doors was down the hall was open and she heard the sound of Daisy’s voice before she could even see what was going on inside. She didn’t feel like stopping, but she spotted Daisy and Luigi curled up on the couch together watching the TV, he must have been off. It wasn’t unusual for him to hang around the hospital when he was done. 

Peach passed by, heading into the wing opposite her own. As she passed through a set of double doors and the cold air of the next hall washed over her she spotted a familiar face coming her way. 

The mustached doctor and Luigi’s brother, Mario. He smiled as he noticed her, but stopped a little ways down the hall in front of the elevator. She strolled up to meet him. “Dr. Toadstool,” he said. 

She gave a little nod of acknowledgment. “Dr. Mario.”

“Where are you headed?” He asked. 

“Um, this elevator. I think I’m ending shift I’m on,” she said.

“Must be a Hell of a shift, weren’t you starting when I left yesterday?” Mario asked. 

Peach chuckled. “It’s possible, my days are kind of blending together,” she said. Then she leaned down and pressed the button on the elevator. “One of us should probably press this.”

“You’re going up?” Mario asked. 

Peach glanced up and down the hallway. “Yeah. I mean, you were. We’re having a conversation, so I’m going with you.” 

“I mean we were but…” he trailed off. “Your drug rep buddy stopped by my office today.”

“Oh no.”

“Don’t worry, she was mostly cordial.” 

The silvery doors of the elevator opened and a soft robotic voice spoke. “Floor three, going up.” 

Peach followed Mario into the elevator and when the door shut he asked. “Did you tell her about us?” 

“No.” 

“Really?” Mario grazed the side of her leg, just below her skirt and her skin went tight and hot. “Why not?” He asked. 

She crouched down to his level, resting her back against the metallic elevator wall. Peach clenched his wrist, holding it up and pressed her body to his, their lips almost missing each others in the collision, and his hand trapped between them. 

Peach grabbed his necktie, through the top of his coat to pull him closer. He groaned, the sound coming from somewhere in his throat or upper chest. His mustache scratched at her upper lip, but his mouth seemed softer than she remembered each time they did this.

The ride to the tenth floor and Mario’s office was never long enough for anything too exciting, but it still left her in a hazy stupor. When the doors opened the stumbled out of the elevator with hands linked, giggling like school children until they made it to the door of Mario’s private practice. 

Mario struggled getting the key into the door and turning it, the lights in the office clicked on automatically when they stepped into the waiting room. The walls were lined with chairs except for the spots where a decorative plant or magazine rack was. Below some of the chairs were baskets with toys for the children. The area seemed much larger at night when no one was there. 

“Mind if I take some time to wash my hands?” Peach asked. 

Mario shook his head. “Course not.” 

Peach slipped the coat down over her shoulders to reveal the plain white button down blouse she wore under it, she tossed the lab coat over a chair and headed for the restroom. Even before she started to wash her hands and the moment the door was closed behind her, the sink was running. The dark sacks of skin puffed up beneath her eyes in the mirror were the true sign that she had reached her limit for the day, she probably had some hours ago. 

She rinsed her hands in the warm water, adding soap, and then rinsing them again. Peach splashed some of the water up into her face and dried it off with one of the beige paper towels from the automatic dispenser. 

Her gaze met her reflection’s in the mirror. “Mario and I will get there soon, but today’s not the day. Best not to rush these things.” Every secret date and little meet up they managed, this was her mantra. Mario was going to be there, he wasn’t going anywhere and she didn’t see a reason to push things too fast with him. There was a lot of emotion tied up with _that_ part of a relationship. It all seemed like a seriousness that she didn’t want at the moment. 

For all of Daisy’s talk of Luigi, things were easier for her just by virtue of being a drug rep. She wasn’t chained to the same building as Luigi, constantly worrying about how every little interaction with him went. She had prep time! 

Not that Daisy worried about anything like that—she seemed to drift through life on extremely fortunate luck. 

With a small sigh, Peach undid the top button of her blouse and, using a paper towel, turned the knob to open the door. Mario had left the waiting room, but she knew where he would go. She made her way through the hall where his smaller examination rooms were until she reached his office. The first thing that she noticed every time she entered this room was the view, it was overlooking New Donk Medical Plaza, but in the distance was midtown and city hall sparkling like constellation. 

Mario was perched on top of his desk with the dull purple of the city lights filtering through the window at his back. It was enough that Peach could make out his eyes, it was enough that she could see in his face what he wanted her to do. She pressed herself into the apex formed by Mario’s legs until the hollow sound made by her knees bumping the desk echoed through the room. 

They both had to stifle their laughter, but it was that awkward kind of chortle that snowballed into a more infectious, out of control laugh. The electricity between them had been stretched so taut that Peach heard all of these sounds that weren’t there. At least them laughing covered that up.

The chuckling tapered off until they were standing there staring into each other’s eyes. Peach rested her hands on Mario’s legs, just above his knees. He lifted her chin, stroking the side of her face with his thumb and kissed her cheek. “Do we want to stay here or go somewhere else?” 

“We just got here,” Peach said in a very small voice. 

His lips brushed against her ear, his mustache ticking the side of her face and catching at the stray tendrils of hair. “But you didn’t eat today, did you?” 

_How did he know?_ “No,” Peach said out of breath. “It’s no big deal, I was going to pick something up on the way home.” 

“We could pick something up together.” Mario pressed his face into the nape of her neck, sucking at the skin just where her shoulder began to curve up. He fumbled through heir hair, undoing the ribbon that held it up. 

“We could.” Her body responded by curling to the side, resting her weight against Mario’s leg as she let out a little gasp. 

“It wouldn’t take long.” The words were spoken against her neck, barely audible, but she vibrations of each syllable across her skin was like lightning. “We’ll just—“ 

Peach spun, locking her lips to his forcefully and pushing her tongue into his mouth. Their chins jabbed at each other as they rocked together against the desk. He groaned so low and so deep that it felt like it was coming from within her. She moved her fingers back through his dark hair, the bits at the front were damp from where he had probably splashed water in his face the way she did. 

It didn’t occur to her that her eyes were shut for a while, that they had closed themselves out of habit and all of her senses seemed to meld in to cover the gap. She could smell the dying embers of his cologne, something strong and astringent with a citrus hint. There was a smell just peeking through that one, like an iceberg out of the ocean, it was the smell of clean sweat and just _him._ His mouth tasted slightly sour, in the natural way anyone’s probably did after being in this place all day. She didn’t mind because it was Mario. 

“I had a really, really awful day,” Peach said, pushing her hand into his chest to separate them. Behind him, the sky outside the window had changed. It seemed cloudier, buzzing with a kind of static. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Mario asked.

“Not really,” she said. “Come here.” 

Across from the office from his desk, set against the wall was a small couch. Peach slipped out of her shoes before folding her legs onto the couch, so that she was sitting on them with her butt rested on her calves. Mario trailed behind sluggishly, pausing before the leather couch when she moved to pat the spot next to her. 

“Are you sure?” Mario asked.

Peach leaned out, grabbing his hand and pulling it into her lap. “If you want me to be.”

“I want you to be sure for you—we had that talk before and—“

“And we decided that when the time was right we would know, but let’s be realistic: you want me, right?” She asked. 

Mario’s eyes zigzagged along her body tracing a line from her toes, around the bend in her knee and all the way up to her face. “How could I say no, Peach, I—“

Her foot brushing the side of his leg stopped his words, his eyes widened and then Peach was unbuttoning her blouse, slowly revealing a flimsy pink tank top she wore underneath it. Mario watched, his heart beating so loud that she could hear it, could feel it where his hand rested in her lap. 

Mario clambered up onto the couch and crawling over her, his hands sunk into the couch on either side of her waist. Her mouth rose to meet his helplessly and Mario’s lips responded by pushing her head against the arm rest, smashing her hair into a knot behind her head. 

That little cautious voice in her head was in a veritable screaming panic, but the thundering of her heart and the soft moans drowned out any want she had to stop herself. Peach wasn’t above just going for it and this was a calculated risk. 

A flash of light filled the room followed by the tremendous rumble of thunder. Peach caught Mario’s chest with both hands, her nails tracing little lines over his smooth skin. Around and between his nipples. “It would be dangerous for me to drive in this weather—I didn’t even bring an umbrella,” she lied. She always had an umbrella. Any reason to stay like this. 

“I guess we’ll just have to stay here.” Peach rocked forward resting her butt on the leather sofa just in front of Mario’s crotch. Her hands trembled with anticipation causing her to fumble with his belt, managing to free the clasp from the puncture holes that held it after a few attempts. 

Mario was rigid beneath his slacks, she could feel him when her arm brushed against the bulge beneath the fabric. He twitched sending a positively seismic shiver through her very being. Peach reached through the v-shaped crevice of his unfastened slacks and under the waist band of his boxers to grab his cock. He let out a stuttering sigh and arched his back, pumping against her grasp involuntarily. His skin was so warm and smooth and he glided through her palm.

Peach laughed, biting down softly on her lip and then glancing into Mario’s big blue eyes. “Is this okay?” She said in a voice that was barely a whisper.

“Yeah,” he moaned. 

“Yeah,” she repeated. “Are my hands too cold?” 

Mario shook his head.

A dopey grin stretched over Peach’s face. She pulled his cock up over the waistband of his pants. He was engorged, the skin being stretched so taut had smoothed any wrinkles there might have normally been. It wasn’t like she was some kind of cock connoisseur most of her experience with them recently had been related to her work. Feeling one in this context without latex to separate skin from skin and with it heavy and erect was caused her to think things she’d usually gripe at Daisy about saying. 

Peach looked down at it, running her thumb along the gentle, rounded rise of the crown of his cock at an excruciatingly sluggish pace. Mario nails raked at the leather couch when she finally reached the ventral side where a little divot that marked the beginning of the frenulum led her thumb up to the hole in his penis. Mario sucked on his teeth, wincing at the sensation. 

“Does it hurt?” She asked. 

Mario shook his head. 

She thought the better of blowing him. It had been a long time and she was tired. Probably tired enough that she wasn’t thinking clearly, but more so she had been at the hospital over a dozen hours. If she went down on him and he felt compelled to do the same for her—no it was best to keep things simple. 

Peach’s hand grazed his face, the stubby hairs dotting his face catch at her skin as she makes small circles around his chin. “So…” 

He leaned in to press his lips to her neck. The air conditioner for the area of the building kicks in with a thunderous hum that seems to shake the sofa and drum through their bodies. Everything is so secluded, cut off. They’re in a building with hundreds, maybe thousands of people, but they’re alone. 

The second that his fingers touch the inside of her thigh every rational part of Peach is gone. Even with all of the room afforded to them, they stay confined to the couch, fumbling to stay in contact, never not kissing for more than a few moments while trying to strip to the minimally required clothes. 

He got her underwear down and she could feel the damp fabric move past her leg. Peach moved to mount him, straddling and pushing him back into the couch. Her pressed against his upper chest, almost in his face. Mario pushed his way inside of her slowly, rising up to meet her body halfway. Peach grunted, her eyes shut against the sensation, but she after a second she began to rock her hips against him. 

There was a warm satisfaction in the way that they were grinding together. Why did she wait so long to do this? They rocked together on the couch while the lightning outside erupted into a full fit that lit the darkened room for full seconds at a time. Thunder undercut her soft moans, his desperate grunts. 

Mario mouthed something against her ear, and though she couldn’t hear him just the brushing of his lips on her ear exhale her answer, a breathy, “yes.” 

He gripped her hips tighter, pulling her down hard onto him as if trying to get every inch of himself to go into her. His breath caught and his teeth nipped at her ear. Peach felt the hot explosion inside as Mario came. 

Peach clenched her thighs around him and turned her head against the back of the couch, biting at the leather to muffle her little moans. She hadn’t actually quite cum, which was normal. She didn’t typically cum without a lot of lead up or something other than vaginal sex, at the very least. 

But then it seemed Mario wasn’t done with her. 

He moved from between her legs, leaning against the couch with his left arm and then tugged her upright with him and spinning her so that she was pressing her bare back into his chest. She let out a sharp yelp as his lips touched her neck. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine, don’t worry,” Peach said, holding up a hand as if to steady herself.

Mario wrapped an arm around her thigh, bunching her skirt into knots between her legs and began press against the folds of skin between her legs. Peach’s body jerked forward when he brushed the fabric against her clit. Air caught in her throat as she went to make a sound but was cut short by the surprising intensity of the sensations. He mimicked the motion that had gotten the reaction out of her, massaging with a little more pressure now and pushing the cloth of her skirt against the sensitive area. 

He steadied her with his other hand, pulling her back to his chest and cupping her breast.

She tried to encourage what was happening, but the only word she could get out was his name. Something warm and wet and slow dripped down the inside of her thigh. In the kind of brief moment of clarity that can only be recognized in distant hindsight, she thought about what had happened: I let him cum inside me? 

That was her last true bit of her self-awareness before Mario’s fingers, wrapped in the textured fabric of her skirt, caused her to melt into him. She was reduced to a moaning mess of jerky hip rocking mixed with sharp yelps. 

* * *

* * *

Despite the embarrassingly small size of the styrofoam cup, Peach still held it with both hands as she swiveled it beneath her nose to take in the aroma. Mario definitely bought better coffee than they had back on her floor. She could tell by the heat against her cheeks that it was still much too hot to drink. 

She stared out over the misty morning skyline of New Donk through the huge window in Mario’s office. They slept, naked and bundled up in their discarded clothes on the old leather across from his desk. The blinds had been up and the sun’s light burned across the room into their eyes at its very first chance. What was she thinking? In all her years she had never had sex with anyone from work, especially not at work. 

Actually, she hadn’t had sex since she worked here. The length of time since her last relationship slowly dawned on her. Still, things with Mario came so naturally. Through months of courtship leading up to _this_ her heart continued to flutter when he first spoke to her. It had happened when they woke up together. 

The door to the office opened and Peach spun around, frightened that they hadn’t locked it and it was some parent and their child coming early seeking medical help, but Mario stepped in with plastic grocery bag dangling from one hand.

“You got them?” 

“Yeah. The lock on your locker is a little finicky,” he smiled. “And don’t worry, no one saw me.” 

“I would only worry if Daisy was still snooping around,” Peach said before finally taking a drink of her coffee. 

He handed her the bag and Peach placed her cup on his desk to open it. She stared down at the bottom to see the fresh pair of scrub pants folded neatly. “Thank you. Pretty sure my skirt can just go in the trash now,” Peach said moving to wrap one arm around him. “Um, sorry about your couch—it must be pretty old.” 

“Are you kidding, it’s a leather couch in a pediatricians office, it’s seen some shit. I’ll get some leather wipes and it’ll be fine,” he said. “It was actually already here when I moved into the office.”

“Oh,” Peach said putting a shocked hand to her face. “Maybe I shouldn’t have put my mouth on that…” 

They both froze before bursting into boisterous laughter that last far too long for what wasn’t even meant to be funny.

“What did you decide to put back on?” Mario asked. “Are you just wearing the coat?” 

“No,” Peach said pulling the lab coat open so he could see. “I’m just wearing the blouse beneath the coat and…yeah the coat.” 

He hugged her around the waist. “Has anyone ever told you how sexy you are standing around in just a blouse and lab coat?”

“If you say so…” Peach giggled. “But…don’t start that now, you’ve got appointments—and—and a secretary coming in a half hour. How do you think Shokora will feel about me being in here with my naught bits all exposed?” 

“So you have to go?” Mario asked. 

“Yes. I need to nap and shower and try to salvage this skirt too.” 

While Peach changed into the scrub pants and finished her coffee they chatted some more about mundane things. When it came time for her to go she was insistent that she walk alone. 

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay walking down to the car yourself?” Mario asked. 

“Yes. I usually do it at night. Plus it would ignite rumors.”

He still walked her as far as the elevator, stopping to lean against the doors to hold them open, he checked both ways down the hall before leaning in to kiss her. “Goodbye, Doctor Toadstool. 

“Bye, Doctor Mario,” she kissed him on the lips and he stepped back letting the doors close between them.

The moment she was out of sight, Peach jumped up and down with her hands balled into tight little fists at her sides. She wanted to scream or dance, maybe even while screaming, but the elevator dinged and came to a stop for an old woman in a wheel chair to roll in. She nodded at Peach, but said nothing on their ride to the sub level. 

The parking garage was bustling with people, more than she was used to seeing. This wasn’t a time when she normally arrived at or left the hospital, which turned out to be lucky for her because most of these people wouldn’t really know her. She opened the back door of her car, throwing the bag of clothes she’d brought down onto the floorboards. 

“Peaches!?” 

_Oh no._

“Peaches? I know goddamn well you hear me. Is that your cute ass in those awful scrubs?” Daisy rushed over and hugged her, pressing her against the side of the car roughly. 

“Hey Daisy.” Peach folded her arms around her body to keep the lab coat closed. 

“Hey to you too. Since when do you work in the mornings. I mean are you just getting here or…wait what’s that smell?” 

“There’s a lot of cars around. It could be a gas or something, you should go tell the guard.” 

“No, it smells like sweaty leather and sex,” Daisy said. She sniffed the air, leaning in close to Peach. Peach leaned back in return. “Why do you smell like you’ve been having sex?”

Peach tightened her arms around herself, averting her eyes from Daisy’s gaze, until the phrama-rep reached out and poked her in the sides, just below the ribcage. She used to do this all of the time when they were in school. It was a surefire way to tickle Peach quickly and make her loosen up. The moment Peach’s arms jerked away, Daisy threw open her lab coat and gasped. 

“Same shirt, shitty old scrubs! You and Mario?” Daisy asked before twirling in a quick circle like an excited puppy. “You and Mario!” 

“This is why I didn’t tell you things had been…progressing,” Peach said. 

“That’s not fair. I tell you about all the weird shit I get up to,” Daisy said.

“Yeah, you tell me too much, honestly.”

“Well now you’re going to spill it. We are going for breakfast cocktails right now and you’re going to spill it,” Daisy said latching on to Peach’s arm and closing her car door. 

“It’s like seven in the morning and I have to get home,” Peach protested. “Don’t you have to work?”

“Oh please, I’m one of the top sales reps in the country, I make my own hours. Now come on, I know a bar that makes a mean omelette.”


End file.
